


You must forgive yourself

by Elistar



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1435231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elistar/pseuds/Elistar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady MacDuff watches after her death as her husband is wracked by guilt for his failure to protect them from a vengeful MacBeth</p>
            </blockquote>





	You must forgive yourself

**Author's Note:**

> I played Lady MacDuff in a production of MacBeth and this is based on that production. We set our play around the First World War and played around with a few scenes as one does with Shakespeare. Much of this is based on conversations that I had with the actor who played MacDuff about the nature of their relationship. It’s also based on Director’s notes and things. It’s a kind-of “beyond the grave” type thing. Any and all advice, criticism etc most welcome.

I wish he would forgive himself. It’s been years. We’re dead and nothing can change that. No matter how much he punishes himself; blames himself. He needs to forgive, not MacBeth but his own conscience. We’ve been dead for a long time but he still hasn’t moved on and until he does we are stuck, here. It started at the end of the first civil war, whilst King Duncan was still alive. 

I’d wanted him to come home, then he wrote to me and said that Cawdor had been defeated, Norway had been defeated, and he was coming home. I think it was my happiest moment since our son had been born. He was coming home! The relief, the hope, the happiness was palpable. I danced in the garden, I’d run out there, grabbed our son and spun him round. He thought I was crazy! My husband came home for one night. He had to escort the King the next day but he grabbed that one opportunity to come home. It was bliss. To spend one night in my husband’s arms was such sweet surrender. I know that he loved me but he’d spent most of our marriage running off to do the right thing for Scotland. He was so focussed on what was for the greater good of Fife and his people. I loved him for it but it made our married life difficult. Still, I was the perfect wife; I never complained. I did my duty and welcomed him back to our home, our bed, our lives with open arms whenever he returned. He had missed our son growing up and I knew that pained him. He spent time playing cricket on the lawn with our son, a moment of peace before coming into our first family dinner in months. It was also one of our last.

We travelled the next day to Glamis to raise the King. It was an awful night. The wind, the rain, we barely slept but it was worth it. I didn’t want to be parted from him again so soon. Truth be told we were probably a burden but our son didn’t want to be parted from his father so soon after they had been reunited. God, the Porter. The lechery was disgusting, offensive even. Poor young Lennox had to resort to physically removing the man from our presence. Such behaviour in front of my son was unforgivable; he’s such a sensitive boy. It was the one time that I met MacBeth, he was such a disturbing figure. It felt like he was measuring me for my coffin. I could never understand why such a man was so well respected by so many people. He even had the King wrapped around his little finger. He just made me feel so uncomfortable. 

I will never forget my husband’s face when he returned. The shock, the horror, the sense that nothing was ever going to be the same again pervaded everything. All I could do was cling to our son, I hated the fact that I was depending on a small boy but it was all I could do to stay on my feet. Looking back I was proud of the fact that I hadn’t fainted although I’ve never been sure if that fiend faked her collapse or if it was real. I should have realised then what they’d done, looking back it’s so blindingly obvious what had happened. We should have fled then, or at least realised it was probably time to be getting a little more obsessive about locking doors! My husband went to the Council of Thanes following the hideous discovery and my son and I left to return to Fife; and to wait, again, for his return.

He didn’t go to the coronation, he came home to Fife rather than see MacBeth crowned at Scone. It was, in reality, the final nail in our coffin. It was around the time of the coronation that I began to feel paranoid. I thought I was cracking up, every noise made me jump. I suspected the servants. I should have realised then that MacBeth had a spy in our household. My husband’s refusal to attend the coronation had brought us under the spotlight and to the attention of that mad butcher. It was not long after that Banquo vanished. That was when it all really began to unravel, my future, the King’s sanity and the rest of my husband’s life.

My husband left. As ever he ran off to defend Scotland. The famine, the hurt, the terror being wreaked on his country was just too much for him. He needed to go and find help. He had to remove MacBeth. He needed to restore Malcolm to his inheritance so he had to go to England. We never saw him again after that; well, other than from here. He never even said goodbye. 

I found out from our cousin Ross that he’d left. It was the first time I’d ever felt anything for any man other than my husband. I was so lonely and so was here. I’ve always been grateful, given what was coming, that nothing happened between myself and Ross. It was so strange considering all that was to follow. I had to lie to my son, or, I tried to. I tried to tell him that his father was a traitor. That he’d left us because he was a traitor; how do you tell a seven year old boy that his father simply did not love him enough to stay. It was my lowest moment but one that I didn’t have long to regret. Neither did my son. 

Poor Lennox. He tried so hard to warn us to flee in time. He’d been tortured by MacBeth but still tried, out of loyalty to my husband who’d been his mentor, to get us out in time. Looking back they were in the house even then. He was lucky that he managed to escape with his life; I wasn’t so lucky. They were in the house. The spy in our household must have left a window open; we’d been betrayed. When my son came running back into the room I couldn’t understand what happened, until I saw the man behind him. Everywhere we turned there was someone blocking our exit until finally, Seyton. They asked where he was. My last words were to try to protect my husband; I knew he hadn’t betrayed us and I wouldn’t betray him by revealing he’d gone to England. They wouldn’t have spared our lives even if I had. When Seaton broke my son’s neck my world collapsed. I ran straight into Seyton, despite his size I could only see my son, dead on the floor, his eyes staring and open. I had to go to him. Seyton grabbed me by the throat. Forced me to stare at my son’s body on the floor beneath my feet. He then whispered to me what he would let his men do to me before they killed me. And what they were going to do the body of my poor boy. I could only be grateful that his soul had gone further than anyone of their evil hands could touch. He was no longer there. As the knife ripped into my gut I knew it was only a matter of time; I was bleeding badly. As the third of the men raped me I could barely feel anything anymore. My last thoughts were of my husband, my son who had gone before me; who I had failed to protect.

He vowed revenge when Ross delivered the news. We were watching, beyond where he could see us but we were there. He took that revenge. In his head he thought that by killing the man who had murdered us he could relieve his guilt for leaving. He killed MacBeth, he nearly lost his own life in the attempt but we were avenged. It didn’t work. He still doesn’t sleep. He’s never realised that even if he had been in Fife to protect us we would have been killed anyway; he would have been killed alongside us. He has to move on but he never will. Our ghosts will continue to haunt him. He has to let us go but he can’t and until he forgives himself we are stuck here. Fated to watch him suffer. Toss and turn, haunted by nightmares and unable ever to forgive himself for our fate.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review if you have time; I'd love some feedback and/or advice


End file.
